


Unflurried

by Nadler



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 09:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadler/pseuds/Nadler
Summary: They made it; they did it. They're playing opening night on the Dallas roster, and they skate out together.It feels a little bit like fate.





	Unflurried

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the most anticlimatic soulbond fic ever. Miro is just very chill.

It is the first game of the season, and Miro knew they were going to do this. 

It's less rookie hazing and more a rite of passage. There's no going back. He gets this one. The team already have their sticks out, tapping out a racuous clamor. 

Jamie shouts, "Alright boys!" 

"Don't puke," Roope says, and Miro can tell he's barely two seconds from nervous laughter himself. It's a wonder either of them remember to take their skate guards off. "Don't trip either. They'll blame me for breaking you." 

"It's alright if you do," he says, to Roope's confused face.

"You're the reason they even saw me," Miro says, and the words settle between them. He even shows the hint of a smile. It might be true. There's a lot of reasons an NHL team might want to see games in the Liiga, but prospects are one of them. Maybe he made extra sure to play his game when the Stars checked up on Roope. He was ranked in the middle of the round, where the Stars expected to be, before he impressed the scouts by playing at World Juniors, playing his game in the Liiga, playing on the international stage. That was before the Stars won the lottery. "So we're even."

Roope swallows. 

"Okay, Hessu," he says, slinging an arm around Miro. "We're all square." 

They made it; they did it. They're playing opening night on the Dallas roster, and they skate out together.

It feels a little bit like fate. 

 

There are thousands and thousands of seats. There are already fans in the stands, standing by the glass, craning for a look. It's easily twice as big as the ice hall, and Miro glides, fights back a childish want to call to Roope: "Race you," like they stole time back in Helsinki. 

The fans cheer, and it's just as loud as it was when they stepped out onto the green carpet.

Roope's right there with him, keeping pace without Miro having to say anything at all. Except he _does_ say, "What, you're scared of an audience?" 

"Pass me a puck," Miro calls.

"Get one yourself!" 

They make a round towards the net, and the crowd's energy bolsters, and everything is perfect. He can see the moment and seal it in his memory, and Roope crosses over to where Miro can see him in his peripheral vision. 

Miro smiles.

The bond snaps in place, easy as breathing, in that one perfect moment. 

 

Everyone else floods onto the ice, and then it's time to focus on hockey. They win the game. Bishop is a wall and wins himself a shutout. The goals are nice, too, but it's mostly that and the shine of a brand new season.

 

Nothing about Roope in his head _surprises_ Miro. He's the same guy Miro knew before, with fast wheels and faster thoughts, and Miro catches one of them while they're both on the bench. 

"What's there to worry about?" Miro isn't worried. He takes another breath. "Play the game." 

Roope plays ten minutes. Miro plays twenty. That's pretty good for their first game.

The high of their first NHL game doesn't wear off for a long while. It seeps into his bones, thrums with every step he takes, and every single thought Roope has bounces off of Miro.

Jamie gives the player of the game prize to Bishop, who makes a nice little speech. 

_The NHL is great,_ Roope's general train of thought goes, and when Miro tentatively reaches out, mentally, towards him, the bond thrums a little.

Esa, next to Miro, asks, "Enjoying it, rookie?" 

"Don't know," he says, honestly. "I think it could be better." 

Esa gives Miro a noogie, and Miro thinks this is what having a brother might be like. He doesn't even tell Esa to let off because he's smiling too much.

 

They celebrate the win as a team, with most of them going somewhere where all the fancy bars are in Dallas, and Esa tells him there's really no chance in hell the bartenders will let him drink, and his teammates keep making little digs at him before someone slips him a rum and coke. 

Miro's apartment is in the same building as Esa's, and they all take the same Uber back, and Miro (and Roope) kind of wonders if they're having a separate little Finnish celebration. Julius is kind of on shaky ground, though, and they all separate and will probably meet up for lunch or something.

Roope technically has a hotel room, but Esa says, "I have a spare room," at the same time that Miro thinks _I have a couch_. 

"Well, if Julle snores, I'm out." Surviving preseason was enough, and well, Esa smiles and rolls his eyes at both of them. 

"Don't stay up too late, both of you. I don't want to be blamed for your bad habits." 

The elevator ride to Miro's floor is brief.

"So we're ... Talking?" Roope's not trashed, not slurring, and Miro can't exactly tell what feeling resonates down the bond, but he feels bubbling anxiety when it reaches him, so that might be one thing.

"What are you scared of?" Miro asks. Bonds happen, sometimes. Miro didn't know he could make bonds until now, but he didn't know he couldn't, either. There's something more about bonds that Miro definitely left behind in school. He does know this: Roope's in his head; he can't lie to Miro without lying to himself. 

Roope frowns, ends up staring at one of the playing cards on his arm. Even if he weren't in Miro's head, it's easy to read: they're hockey players. Getting hurt. They're rookies. Getting sent down. Getting traded. 

Miro doesn't have to worry about that one. He has an apartment, and Roope sways a little onto Miro's new couch when they get there. 

"You make it sound like it's easy," and Roope almost sounds accusatory. His mind's racing: _Fuck, it's going to be weird and hard and--_

"Why shouldn't it be easy?"

\---

Bonds are supposed to be something life-changing and important, at least, that's pretty much how Roope understands it. 

Roope thinks Miro is _entirely_ too calm about all of this. Entirely too calm. It's a fucking bond, and Roope knows like eight people with bonds, and they all take careful steps to make sure they never stretch the limits and never ever is this not a big deal; it's one of the most permanent things he can think of and--

It's not like the movies. They have to keep living with it. 

Also, Miro's kitchen is pretty damn empty, which is also not helping in the least. Miro's up, which Roope just knows. If he presses and reaches out, he can feel an echo of Miro's sleepiness.

It's weird. It makes Roope yawn. 

Miro is like--well, he's like a rock. An immoveable rock, somewhere in the back of Roope's mind. It's not the worst thing, and Roope doesn't really want to press or prod at where he can feel the bond, but it's Miro. 

It's a bond, and Roope knows bonds are something that aren't quite realistic, just like love at first sight, in that they sometimes happen, but they just don't happen to regular people. He's always considered himself pretty normal and also pretty good at hockey.

Miro has his phone out, when he comes into the living room, and he asks, "Who do you want to tell first?" 

Roope looks at him with a blank expression.

"We have to tell someone." Miro sits down on the couch. "I'll flip a coin if we're telling your mom first or mine." 

That's ... reasonable, Roope thinks. He exhales. "Okay, but--" What is this changing? He feels like things should, and there's the issue of how far they can be away from each other, and--

There's a little bark at Roope's ankles, and another one running around. "Max!" 

Roope huffs, "It's a wonder I didn't trip over them." 

He feels wave of fondness, and Miro picks one of his ridiculously fluffy and tiny dogs up to sit in his lap. It suits him, though. A boy and his very fluffy dog. Miro's hair flops a little, when he scratches behind Max's ear. _They're probably hungry,_ Roope catches from the surface of Miro's thoughts.

"You don't have people food, but you do have dog food." Roope thinks he might laugh.

"We can find a breakfast place." Miro waves it off. There's like a bazillion breakfast places in Dallas. 

They end up not making any phone calls, and then it's time to go to practice. 

Roope kind of thinks that everyone can tell something happened last night, but they don't get a ribbing from Esa on the way, and Miro thinks at him, _It's not like we glowed._

It would have been kind of sick if they did, though. 

Roope still startles, a little, when Miro says things directly like that. _Into his fucking mind_ like they were just having a casual conversation. It's casual and it's not, at the same time. It doesn't really make sense. 

It's actually really nice to tap into Miro's single-minded calm on the ice, when he skates. 

Segs whistles when Roope passes him. "Am I getting old or are they really fast?" 

Spezz shrugs, but he giggles and adds, "Well, my joints hurt just from looking at them. I can't tell, old man."

Segs elbows him, for the remark. 

It's easy. The more time passes, the more that Roope wonders why he was worried. Miro must be infectious.

\---

Eventually, they tell their agents, and it's really just a personal issue. 

The Stars don't care; they're not the first or the last people in the world to have a bond, and they even play different positions, so it's not like it's going to affect their playing, is what they get told. They get strongly hinted at that they're going to be put into counseling if there's any hint that something personal affects them on-ice. 

They hold off on telling their moms. 

\---

Roope gets sent down. 

He feels weird and achey without Miro, like there's a weight dragging him down. He misses Miro. 

Denis is a great liney, though; he asks, "Where you've been?" when Roope gets down and hugs him. "We were missing another good wing."

They play beautiful hockey, and they score goals, and on the bus, Roope tells him about his time in the Show.

Denis is his favorite liney. His favorite roommate, too, if he's being honest. He doesn't snore, and they have an understanding, built up over most of a season on the same line, the kind of confidence and trust that only comes from winning together.

Mostly, it's good for when Roope's getting pissy and craving sugar, and Denis tosses a bag of gummies his way. 

It's a poor substitute for having Miro actually read his mind, but it's kind of unfair to compare anyone else to Miro.

Roope keeps reaching for the spot that he associates with Miro, and he keeps coming up short, and it's weird. There's an emptiness there, and he must try at least a dozen times that first day, and it feels a bit like over-exerting a muscle.

He keeps forgetting that he can't just show bug Miro to see this weird Insta post; he sends Snaps and texts, but it's not the same.

 

When Roope's back up, Miro tells him to come over and play fetch with the dogs. Miro smiles, and it's better than Roope's felt in days.

Roope dreads getting sent down now.

"You'll be up for good, soon," Miro says. "So that's not a problem we have to deal with long." 

"You can't know that," Roope insists. Roope would chirp him for clearly stealing one of Roope's hats if he hadn't done the same thing. 

It helps, a bit. Roope's spent more time googling about bonds than he ever thought he would. It's not helpful, mostly pulling up lists of best bonding romance books and movies. 

"I do," Miro says. "You're too good to stay down." 

Roope thinks he might even believe him, the way that the conviction spreads through their bond.

\---

It's not like they go out a ton. A moderate amount, Miro concedes. There's only so much staying at home a body can stand. He tends to follow his friends' lead on this, considering Miro can't drink without one of them around, which is a little ridiculous, but drinking alone is also a little sad, so he probably wasn't going to, anyway.

The scene in Dallas is a lot different from back home, and it's not like Miro went out a lot then, either, but it's really different, or at least the places that Julius likes to hang out are fancier than ones Miro would ever pick. They're better than the ones Klinger and Janny pick, though. Miro feels like he has to get dressed up, a little.

Roope is a bit of a vain fucker. He's lucky he's hot, really, or else it'd be completely ridiculous to see him in a cheetah print shirt, Miro thinks, as they're waiting for everyone else. 

He blinks and looks at Miro, putting down his phone. 

Anyone with eyes can see that. Miro's not blind, and also, Roope has great hair that he puts effort into. Miro wants to touch it sometimes, and it's not like Roope stops him.

"Do you not--" Miro doesn't know how to end this sentence, and it's easier just to push the question through the bond and see. 

"I don't think I _don't_ ," Roope says, looking away. "Never really thought about it." 

"Cool," Miro answers, letting out a breath. "Think about it, then." 

Miro did all his thinking about it when he was seventeen, and he'd come to the conclusion that Roope wasn't getting less hot, so it was just another fact of life.

\---

Roope thinks fast. He pulls plenty; it really doesn't take a lot more than a well-placed smile and confidence to get him most of the way, and if that doesn't work, there were plenty of other fish in the sea.

Would it work, if he tried the same thing on--this year has been a bunch of ups and downs, and it's never really bothered Roope before, to think about Miro catching any hint of that; it's not like they talk about it.

He's really never considered it for someone like Miro--if teammates' sisters were definitely off-limits, teammates definitely were. But this was a bit of an exception, wasn't it? Because they're bonded and that's _forever_ in a way that people still don't understand. And Miro is _cute_ , once Roope takes half a second.

And Miro is there, in front of him. On the other side of the bond, there's a buzzy feeling. 

It's probably the first time that he's been anything less than a perfect wall of calm, and that tells Roope a lot, considering. He takes a breath and goes for it. 

It's a terrible kiss, all told, but Miro's mouth is hot and soft against Roope's, so that's a win. He thinks he could get used to that. 

Miro's right. This could be easy. 

_This is easy. Easiest thing I've ever done._ He's not even bothering to pretend he can't smile, and there's a little tightness in Roope's chest, and Roope can't help but smile back.

There's a knock on the door, and well, they're still going out to dinner, afterwards, maybe to one of those weird places where there's weird shaped lighting and knick-knacks on the walls that Esa likes. 

They've got all the time in the world. They're solid.


End file.
